


You'll be safe in these arms of mine (call my name on the edge of the night)

by Ambros



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: A slightly different final scene, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers s02e13, post 2x13, where they talk a bit more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambros/pseuds/Ambros
Summary: - There are just scars left for you to look at.





	You'll be safe in these arms of mine (call my name on the edge of the night)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slightly different last scene for last night's episode, because the one we had left me a bit ... meh.  
> Hope you like this! Please, let me know what you think :)  
> Title is from Run to You by Lea Michele!

_Get out._

There's a part of you that's still fighting every step you take towards that door, _get out_ , what if he meant it?, what if he also meant _don't come back_?

There's magic on the tips of your fingers, because he can't be bothered with locks, of course he can't, he's got walls of energy guarding his door, and you almost don't take that one more step, because what if he doesn't want you here, what if you take that step only to find that it's not your right anymore?, but his magic is pulling a little, gently wrapped around your wrist, nothing's different, it's like nothing's happened, and you take that step and the muscles in your arms hurt like you're bracing for impact.

His magic feels cold.

He doesn't turn to look at you, but he knows you're here.

It's not cold on the balcony, warm enough that you'd take off your jacket if it didn't feel like comfort on your shoulders.

The city isn't quiet, it never is, but it feels like it should be.

_Get out._

-I'm sorry,- you say. Quiet. You mean it with every twitch of your graceless heart. He doesn't look at you, his eyes fixed on the city, and you want to brush your fingers on his skin, you want to feel his lips against the tips of your fingers, you need to know he's here. That he didn't mean it. That he's not running away, wrapping shallow happiness painfully tight around his heart.

_Continue._

-I shouldn't have – I _had_ to ask you, but I know – You're not _okay_ ,- your voice breaks on that last word, your breath gives out, because he's not, he's _not_ okay, and you feel _scared_ and small, you can't – you were too late. You can't protect him. There are just scars left for you to look at.

You were too late and then – you hurt him. You think it might just drive you insane.

-I'm terrified.-

He looks at you now, eyes wide and sad and tired, and he asks: -Why?-, composed and broken.

-Because,- you look for the right words only to find that there aren't any, not really, -What if I can't reach you? You are in pain and it's my fault and I – _feel it_. Your magic, it doesn't feel the same. And I know that I can't reach you, but what if you go somewhere I can't follow?-, your fingers are gripping the railing so tight it hurts, you need to make sure he's still _here_ , -I don't know what to do and I'm sorry,- and then, quiet, -And I'm terrified.-

-Alexander,- he says, and your name doesn't feel heavy, it feels like it's every single corner of you, every shadow and every mistake, but it's not judgement. It's love. -You're forgiven,- he says, not like you didn't need to apologise, like you made a mistake but it's okay, _and_ it's okay, and it steals the breath from your lungs, you almost feel like crumbling down with the relief of it. -Alexander,- he says, his voice filling with understanding as he moves towards you, his hands suddenly brushing your skin as he murmurs: -Oh, my Alexander,- soft, almost absentmindedly, but it feels safe, _so safe_ , _my Alexander_ , -I'm not going anywhere.-

The tips of your fingers against his lips, the palm of your hand against his chest, he feels so alive: -Good,- you say, your voice shaking, -Because I won't let you.-

He smiles, but it's not him. Not yet.

-Tell me,- your arms around his waist, -Tell me what I can do to make it better.-

There's an old sadness in his eyes, something you can't understand. Not yet.

He says: -Can you just stay here?-, and he hides his face against your chest, his hands under your jacket on your back.

Your arms on his shoulders, your lips pressed against his temple: -For as long as you want.-

  


**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://sometimesambroswrites.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
